We’ve been staying at Mom’s House, a little place down the beach from Shimonakano Fishing Port. There’s not much at the port, which is probably why Google’s never heard of it. That’s what makes it so nice.
There’s just Ikitsuki Island and then South Korea, a stone’s throw to the west.
And the couple that run Mom’s, they’re nice too.
Young and learning the business, they’re very enthusiastic. It would be nice to visit them when I’m 80. See how they’re doing.
When I told Jen a year ago I wanted to travel around the world after turning 70, she quite seriously responded that perhaps I could wait til I turned 80. I think I’ll take that as a challenge. Pa won’t be able to come along, having been granted his one furlough. But perhaps we could petition for an exception.
Planning to leave early for Nagasaki, we were surprised by the overnight change of weather.
Somehow it was appropriate, as we’d be visiting the Atomic Bomb Museum and the site where the bomb exploded. It would be a somber day and not right to have sunshine.
Just after leaving Mom’s we drove to the port just to see what was going on.
The same boats were there,
and the same fisherman we’d seen the morning before.
There was something timeless about the scene. So Japanese, timeless that is.
Yesterday we visited the Matsuura Historical Museum in Hirado, having heard there’d be a Tea Ceremony at 2:00. It wasn't going to take place we were told. No explanation given. That was ok. It’s their place.
When we arrived at the museum,
the gentleman at the counter shot out of his chair, ran out the door and around, showed me where to place my shoes, then handed me a pair of slippers. Tradition, custom, timelessness.
Such a pleasant afternoon, we didn’t feel like an inside history lesson, so the man behind the counter suggested we visit the Tea House. It wasn’t open, but we could look around at no charge.
125 years old,
it had stood the test of time.
Back to this morning and our drive to the mainland.
After crossing over, we had to stop and look back.
Two days can go by in the blink of an eye, or time can slow to an easy stroll.
An hour from Nagasaki we stopped at a toll booth and learned we’d mistakenly chosen the “ETC” line. We had cash but no way to pay. A Japanese fellow appeared on the remote screen, but we couldn't communicate. After a couple of minutes, the line growing longer behind us, a young woman appeared at our window having surmised our dilemma.
For a good five minutes she tried to talk sense into the man on the screen. She then suggested we pull ahead and to the right, leading us there and pointing to where we could park. Motioning to stay put, she returned to continue negotiations on our behalf. Soon she was back, got in on the passenger side, took my iPhone with its Google Maps, and showed us where down the road we could pay in cash.
So moved by her kindness, I took both her hands, holding back tears. This young woman, with a most beautiful smile, graciously accepted my thanks and replied simply,
“Piece of cake, safe journey,” and went on her way.
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